To Live
by Polarissruler
Summary: 'Servamps cannot dream - but Kuro has always liked nothingness over the clock of life, counting every second Kuro has to live through. If only he could sleep forever - till the Earth turns to dust and nothing more remains...' Kuro tries to find some meaning in his eternal existence. His mind draws a complete blank. WARNING FOR SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND SELF-HARM REFERENCE


**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Servamp.**

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To live means one simply has not died yet.

Kuro sits by the sleeping Mahiru. He is so serene, caught in his little dream world, where nothing bad ever happens. Dreams - the thing Kuro envies humans the most for. They can hope for something else, they can yearn, they can change. Even in a limited life, they find a way to leave a mark.

It is a full moon outside. Kuro opens the window and chilly wind rushes in the room. Mahiru shuffles for a moment, then pulls the covers tighter and reaches for his Servamp, almost by instinct. His hand finds nothing.

"Where…" he murmurs, still asleep. Kuro should go by him and reassure everything is OK; that he is not going to leave him anytime soon and he will always protect him; that nobody will ever hurt him again the way Toma did. He is too slow - Mahiru has already fallen asleep again and again is lost in that wonderland of dreams.

The wind is screeching outside, howling at the moon. It brings back memories - tiny, old rooms; stench of cheap alcohol; bloody blades rusting quietly; endless arguments tearing the silence of the night…

How long has it been since he left Gear? Kuro has never counted days - they all came together in one huge, awkward pile of memories and mistakes called past. Has it been just twenty years or two hundred? The world is speeding fast - way too fast… Days drive past so swift that Kuro does not have time to think.

Kuro rolls a sleeve up. The scars - his only memento from London - have healed many years ago, disappearing in his skin without leaving a mark. Even they have melted into the mixture of pain, hope, and nostalgia. And why should they remain? To indicate a change?

Vampires do not change. Vampires cannot change.

Yet he traces a finger of his arm, trying to remember those bloody wounds. An exercise in futility - there is red and pain and warmth; there are shouts that disappear in the night; there are tears, there is the London fog, there is burning feeling all over Kuro's body. Nothing concrete. Just another proof of unlived life - droplets of memories that fall alone all over his mind. And only one person stands in the middle of the rain. Only one figure Kuro could remember clearly - as if just a moment ago, he had argued with him; as if just a moment ago Kuro slit his neck and left him to die in the rain.

Mahiru shouts something - so loud and sudden that Kuro does not realize it at first. Kuro turns to check on him; he has woken up and is crying. Should Kuro hug him? He has sat by the open window for too long - maybe he will shock the boy with how cold he is…

"You are here!" says Mahiru through tears and hugs him, taking Kuro's choice. "Thinking simply, I knew you had to be close! You will never leave me - but Toma tried to kill me again and you weren't there and I woke up and…" Mahiru coughs, having spoken too fast. He says nothing more, just hugging Kuro tighter. He is hot - hot tears are falling out of his closed eyes, hot breath escapes his shaking lips, hot blood is pulsating in his veins, hot skin touches Kuro's body.

How should he answer? Kuro wishes he could say anything - but he does not remember ever dreaming, much less nightmares. How could he be of help with something so human?

"Thanks," Mahiru finally says, wiping his tears away with his healthy arm. His voice is more even - almost calm; only his still shallow breathing shows his real fear. His hand touches Kruo's and suddenly holds tighter. He looks at him with wide-awake eyes. "You are cold! Are you feeling well? Should I go and raise the heating? Do you want one more blanket?" Mahiru blurts out question after question and the only reason he does not go the chest is that Kuro is still holding him tightly.

"I'm OK," answers Kuro; Mahiru is looking after him once again - even though Kuro should have been the one to care about Mahiru until his arm healed…

"Are you sure? If you need anything…" Mahiru tries to protest.

Kuro gently leaves him in bed and pulls the blanket over him. "Don't worry. I'll be OK. I'm just going to sleep."

It is Mahiru's turn to pull Kuro's hand. He tries to say something - most likely to scold Kuro for lying - but only yawns. His eyes close and he dozes off.

Once again, Kuro stands by the window, closing it first. He is going to sleep - someday, when life once again becomes too much like a chore. Even if the day feels further and further, one day Mahiru will die - they all die. They all end the game of cat and mouse with life. All, but the Servamps - that cursed eight, for which life has become a chore - endless, unpleasant order that has been forced on Kuro by some 'well-meaning' mad scientist - but much more draining and with no way to skip it.

Slowly the warmth of Mahiru disappears in the night and Kuro is left alone. He closes his eyes, hoping to drown all those thoughts in a faraway place, where it will never come back. Servamps cannot dream - but Kuro has always liked nothingness over the clock of life, counting every second Kuro has to live through. If only he could sleep forever - till the Earth turns to dust and nothing more remains - in his white, empty world, where nothing ever happens…

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**Hello guys, and happy winter holidays! This is a little fic I have been writing for ages (how come the shortest stuff always takes me so long to write) and I finally feel satisfied with it! Please, tell me what you think!**


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